


Apologetic

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Heterosexual Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-13
Updated: 2007-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-27 10:40:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10807452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Neville didn't want to go home.





	Apologetic

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Written for Lady_Caetlyn for Wizard_Love 2007.  


* * *

Neville didn’t want to go home. 

 

He and Ginny had fought before he left for work that morning. They didn’t quarrel often, but when they did it was never a pretty sight. Neville knew what Ginny’s hot buttons were and ordinarily did his best not to press them. Likewise, Ginny knew what few things could get Neville hot under the collar and tried to avoid them. It made for a harmonious relationship – most of the time.

 

It had begun innocuously enough. Ginny’s brother Charlie was finally getting married in the spring; and much to Molly Weasley’s dismay he and his future bride had decided the wedding would take place in Romania, rather than the Burrow. They had been idly discussing what one gave as a wedding gift to the dragonkeeper who had everything, when Ginny announced she had booked a private suite at a nice hotel for the two of them to stay during the festivities. 

 

Neville had asked which hotel. He’d been to Romania before, while on one of his plant-gathering trips. He’d nearly choked on his tea when Ginny named the most luxurious, and therefore most expensive hotel in Bucharest. 

 

Neville had suggested the name of another, less costly place where they could stay.

 

Ginny had exploded in a fiery rage, accusing Neville of being cheap and she had only wanted to stay somewhere nice and…. He couldn’t remember exactly; he’d been too busy trying to apologise. She would have none of it, and Neville had left for work feeling distinctly singed around the edges. Whenever Ginny was in a temper, he’d learned, it was sometimes best just to get out of her way until she cooled down.

 

Thing was, sometimes that took awhile, which was why Neville wasn’t looking forward to going home. It didn’t help that he had spent the day wrestling Venomous Tentaculae for their seed pods. Immobility spells didn’t work with them, and the protective gear he’d had to wear to avoid their bite was hot and scratchy. He was tired and sore by the time he’d turned the last lock and set up the last of the protective wards around his greenhouses that evening.

 

He’d apologise again, he thought to himself as he prepared to Apparate home. Profusely, if need be, and let Ginny know that if she wanted to stay at the hotel in Bucharest for her brother’s wedding, they would. She wasn’t a spendthrift, and she deserved nice things and luxuries such as expensive hotels every once in awhile. He had a successful business and Ginny had a promising career at the Ministry; it wasn’t as though they couldn’t afford the expense. It would be almost like a second honeymoon.

 

Neville nearly smacked himself. _Of course_. He could be such an idiot sometimes! 

 

Concentrating, he Apparated just outside the front door and hesitated. He definitely owed Ginny an apology, he knew; but words had never been his strong suit. Flowers were out of the question, since he raised and sold plants for a living. Chocolates weren’t an option either; Ginny wanted to lose weight before Charlie’s wedding. Jewellery, perhaps? There had been a necklace she’d admired during their last shopping trip to Diagon Alley…

 

He’d think of something, Neville resolved. Straightening his shoulders, wincing as overworked muscles protested, he walked into the house, eyes adjusting to the unexpected dimness. He wondered if perhaps Ginny was at the Burrow, telling Molly all about her husband’s stupidity and questioning why she’d ever agreed to marry him in the first place.

 

“Ginny?” he called out hesitantly. “I’m home!”

 

There was no reply, and Neville slumped. Ginny was either working late at the Ministry, or she really had gone to see her mother. Stripping off his jacket, he hung it up and made his way to the front room.

 

There was a fire burning brightly in the fireplace. A low table sat before the flames, surrounded by several large pillows. The table held candles and all of Neville’s favourite foods, and reclining on the pillows…

 

“I was beginning to wonder when you’d come home,” Ginny said, rising gracefully. Taking his hand, she drew him further into the room. “The food was growing cold.”

 

Food was the furthest thing from Neville’s mind. He couldn’t stop staring at Ginny, dressed in a satin peach-coloured camisole cut so low it barely concealed her nipples and a matching pair of barely-there knickers. The firelight played across the shimmering fabric and her skin, painting them in flickering strokes of light and shadow. Her loose hair glinted with all the colours of autumn.

 

“Ginny?” Neville rasped, his throat suddenly quite dry.

 

“Thank goodness for Warming charms.” Ginny gave him a whimsical smile, lifting a hand and resting it against Neville’s cheek, her thumb stroking it gently before skimming her fingertips down the side of his neck to his shoulder. She kneaded the muscle there and frowned. “You’re dreadfully tense.”

 

“Venomous Tentacula,” Neville said with a small sigh as Ginny began rubbing both shoulders, working against the tightness. “They don’t like having their seed pods taken from them. Makes them even more temperamental than usual.”

 

“Ahhh,” Ginny nearly purred, fingers sliding to the base of Neville’s neck, rubbing at the knots there. “It seems I chose the perfect way to apologise, then.”

 

“Apologise?” Neville closed his eyes as Ginny’s hands kept working their magic on his tense shoulders and neck. “You don’t have anything to apologise for. I was the one being the prat this morning.”

 

“Yes, but my reaction was completely uncalled for,” Ginny said briskly, her tone brooking no argument. “You’re too tall. Lie down so I can reach you better.”

 

The last thing Neville wanted was to argue over apologies, of all things. The notion was absurd; and besides, Ginny’s hands on his shoulders felt too good. Complying with her wishes, he stretched out on the floor. Ginny straddled his thighs, leaning over him. He could feel her heat through the thin barrier of satin covering her. His cock twitched in anticipation despite his soreness and fatigue.

 

Neville hadn’t realised just how tense he was until Ginny began rubbing his shoulders and back in earnest. It took awhile to relax beneath her hands as she worked in silence, the only sound an occasional groan whenever she hit a particularly sore spot, her touch working at the knot and smoothing it away before continuing.

 

“Better?” she asked after releasing an especially stubborn knot, working her thumbs along Neville’s spine.

 

“You don’t hear me complaining, do you?” Neville responded, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Your hands must be getting awfully tired, though.”

 

“Don’t worry about me.” Ginny was smiling too, judging from her voice. “You just keep lying there.”

 

Neville’s lower back was especially stiff. He could only imagine how Ginny’s hands must ache by the time the knots there finally loosened and were smoothed away; but he felt completely relaxed, utterly pliant beneath Ginny’s touch, eyes closed in bliss and his head pillowed on his arms.

 

Ginny finally patted his back, letting him know the backrub was at an end. Her fingers ran up along the length of his spine to his nape. He felt warm fingers push his hair aside, followed by the brush of her lips over the tender skin. The caress sent a shiver through him.

 

Rolling over onto his back, Neville stared up at her, honestly curious. “Why, Ginny?” he asked. “You were so angry with me this morning…”

 

“Hush.” She laid her fingertips on his lips, silencing him. “I should have discussed it with you first, rather than blindside you. It was wrong of me. If you want to stay somewhere else for Charlie’s wedding, we will. I love you too much to fight over silly things.”

 

She bent her head and captured his lips with her own before Neville could reply. He responded willingly, mouth parting beneath hers as Ginny’s fingers went to his shirt, undoing the buttons one by one until it lay completely open.

 

“Ginny…” Neville’s head fell back as clever lips and fingers touched and teased and stroked their way down his throat and chest and stomach until she was lying between his legs, where she proceeded to undo his jeans, lowering the zip. Catching hold of the belt loops, she tugged downward and Neville found himself lifting his hips before Ginny even had to ask.

 

Quickly, he toed off his trainers so Ginny could finish stripping off his jeans and y-fronts, dropping them into a pile beside one of the oversized pillows scattered about the room. Giving Neville a wicked smile he knew all too well, she settled back between his legs, wrapped her fingers around his half-hard cock, and began stroking.

 

It didn’t take long before she had stroked him to fullness. Looking up at him, Ginny smiled again, her thumb circling the rim of his cock before skating lightly over the head. Neville sucked in a breath at the teasing touch, swallowing a moan and closing his eyes. They didn’t stay closed for long. Hot, wet warmth engulfed him without preamble as Ginny took him into her mouth. 

 

Neville gasped, arching as she moved up and down the entire length of his shaft, her tongue swirling around him. His fingers curled helplessly around nearby pillows, nearly clawing at them when Ginny began humming around him. The added sensation wrung a long moan from deep within his throat.

 

Ginny withdrew slowly until just the head remained between her lips, tongue circling the rim before gliding wetly across his glans once, twice, and a third time before again swallowing him in one sudden movement. Neville made a choking sound, hips surging upward. His hands found Ginny’s head, fingers twining through her hair.

 

The suction increased, and Neville moaned again as one small hand went to his balls, cupping them in her palm and rolling them gently. His fingers tightened in her hair, clenching and unclenching rhythmically in time to her movements along his cock. His mind was blank, flooded with pleasure, thrusting into her willing mouth with abandon amid the sound of his harsh breathing and gasping moans.

 

“Ginny…” he managed to rasp hoarsely. “Ginny…”

 

She hummed again, her tongue flat against the vein running on the underside of his cock, and Neville was lost. Tensing, his fingers tightening further around Ginny’s hair, he came, still gasping her name, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he spilled into her mouth. He felt the muscles in her throat rippling as she swallowed.

 

Giving his balls a final stroke with her tongue, Ginny shimmied back up along Neville’s limp body, where she began licking and kissing his throat. Neville found enough energy to wrap an arm around her shoulders, though his eyes were still fixed on the ceiling, still beginning to come back to awareness.

 

“Ginny, let me catch my breath,” he said as she nuzzled against his neck, teeth closing around his earlobe and nipping gently. 

 

She answered with a throaty chuckle. “Neville, love, I’m still apologising.”

 

“Your apology is accepted,” Neville whispered, shifting so that he lay spooning her from behind, one arm falling across her waist and pulling her flush against him. “Now it’s my turn.”

 

Brushing her hair from one bare shoulder, Neville eased the thin strap of Ginny’s camisole down and off, placing soft kisses along the curve, a mere brush of lips and flicker of tongue along her skin. Ginny let out a sigh of pleasure; shifting restlessly, rubbing against him, his reawakened cock sliding along her cleft. 

 

“I could get used to this sort of apology,” she murmured huskily, wriggling deliberately against Neville’s erection and making him groan. 

 

Neville finished slipping the camisole straps from Ginny’s arms, revealing her breasts. He cupped one in his palm, thumb fanning over the nipple until it contracted beneath his touch. Ginny’s eyes slipped shut, fingers hooking beneath her knickers and sliding them down her legs before kicking them free. Her hips pressed back against him for a moment before she lifted a leg, shifting it over Neville’s so he could slide into her from behind.

 

She was already wet and ready. Neville moved within her slowly, his hand drifting over her breasts and belly, tracing circles and spirals with his fingertips, kissing her neck and shoulders, drinking in her soft sighs and breathless moans as their movements quickened.

 

Neville kept his touch gentle yet random until his fingers sifted past coarse curls to find Ginny’s centre. She cried out as he stroked her in a figure-eight pattern, trembling beneath him as he coaxed her to completion, his own thrusts becoming more urgent, needful.

 

Ginny cried out again as she shattered around him, squeezing convulsively around Neville and driving him over the edge as well. His arms tightened around her as he bucked and spasmed through his own climax. They lay there spent, the heat from the fireplace lulling them into sated contentment.

 

Eventually, Ginny giggled and rolled over to lie on top of Neville. Peppering his upturned face with kisses, she said, “Your apology is also accepted, but really, it doesn’t matter where we stay while we’re in Romania, just so long as I’m with you.” She pressed her forehead to his. “I was being an idiot. Forgive me?”

 

“I can forgive you for almost anything,” Neville replied. “Which is why we’re keeping the reservation you made. I may owl the hotel and extend it. What do you say to that?”

 

Ginny’s eyes widened momentarily before breaking into a pleased, surprised grin. “A holiday?”

 

“A holiday,” Neville agreed just before Ginny began kissing him again, effectively cutting off further speech.

 

Perhaps they should quarrel more often, Neville thought, sinking happily into the pleasure of Ginny’s hands and mouth moving over his skin. Turning his head, he caught sight of the food she’d laid out, still untouched.

 

“Thank goodness for Warming charms,” he said, just before he kissed her.


End file.
